


folklore tales

by indestinatus



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Short & Sweet, folklore made me do it, unrelated stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indestinatus/pseuds/indestinatus
Summary: and just like a folk song,our love will be passed on.a collection of 17 short stories about tiva.inspired by the album ‘folklore’ by taylor swift.each song inspired one of the stories.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 38
Kudos: 77





	1. the 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on a hot summer’s day, Tony finds himself wondering what would happen if his wishes came true.
> 
> set in S7.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _but we were something, don't you think so?  
>  roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool  
> and if my wishes came true  
> it would've been you_

“All I’m saying is that if I cracked an egg on the floor right now, it would’ve fried _instantly_.”

Ziva looked up from she was squatted down taking crime scene photos, and narrowed her eyes at Tony’s comment. “And why would you do that?” she asked flatly.

“I don’t know if you’re familiar with the concept of metaphors, Probette, but I suggest you look that up before taking your citizenship test.”

Tony tried to hide his smirk but couldn’t once he was faced with a death glare and flaring nostrils coming from Ziva. It was way too easy to tease her—especially under such bothering hot weather and in the middle of a quiet crime scene like that—and he couldn’t help but try to stir up some bickering.

This particular case had led them to a great lake in Northern Virginia and, usually, he would’ve been more than happy to trade the ugly orange walls to a gorgeous sight like that—cloudless skies and tall pine trees framing such calming waters—but something about the blazing sun burning the back of his neck and the countless mosquitos biting his exposed skin made him uneasy.

Or perhaps it was the fact that the heat was so high that they had foregone their typical NCIS attire and now he couldn’t take his eyes from Ziva’s lower back dimples that were so clearly displayed on the patch of skin visible under her black tank top.

The way he always caught himself staring, countless times already, was making him itchy, and he found that teasing her was always a great distraction from the growing frustration piling up inside.

“I do not know what eggs have anything to do with my citizenship test,” said Ziva with a roll of her eyes and resumed taking the photos.

Tony ignored her, but couldn’t ignore the sudden desire of licking the salt out of those back dimples when she shifted a little and made them pop up even more. “Why does it have to be so hot?” he found himself saying—and for once the heat had nothing to do with the weather.

“You wouldn’t be complaining about the heat if we were on a beach,” chimed in McGee.

Tony glared at him, and his frustration only grew when he saw how composed McGee looked taking shells and putting them inside evidence bags. He frowned, suddenly very aware of the feeling of his gloves sticking to his sweaty palms.

“Well, I wouldn’t be complaining about anything if that beach also came with a cocktail in my hand and an exotic beauty fanning my face.”

Tony let out a restless sigh and decided to take a break of his own, ignoring his co-workers’ retorts to his comment. He disposed of his gloves after giving a second glance to make sure Gibbs was far away, and strolled out of the crime scene to get closer to the pebbles bordering the lake.

Once Tony got to the water, he crouched down, inhaling the freshness coming from it to clear his head. He tried to pinpoint what was bothering him so much, but his thoughts came back to what he was avoiding for weeks now—his partner.

Since they had returned from Paris, he found himself thinking even more often of her—and when Ziva made no comment about that memorable night the following weeks, resentment started to grow in the pit of his stomach.

Tony grabbed a flat pebble and a flicker of his wrist made it skit a few times over the shining waters of the lake. He frowned, the heat making him feel even more miserable as he chewed his doubts for the tenth time that week.

What would she say if he tried to discuss it? Would she give in to the possibilities of them becoming _something_ , or would she back away? Did she think about it as often as he did?

Tony _knew_ he had steered clear of that conversation out of fear of scaring her away, but now the what-ifs in his mind were growing too big to ignore.

“You are pretty good at that.”

Tony startled a little when Ziva’s voice materialized just beside him, and a chill went down his spine when he thought she had caught him red-handed.

He felt her standing next to him, but decided to look straight ahead to try to disguise the heat flushing on his cheeks. Hopefully, she would think it was the sun who to blame.

“I’ve been training since I was little,” Tony confessed, and huffed out a soft laugh when memories of lazy afternoons set on past summers came to mind.

“The training paid off.”

Apparently Ziva didn’t care for the heat, nor for personal space, because her naked arm brushed his with quite some pressure, and Tony's focus instantly narrowed to that burning sensation.

“It impressed the ladies,” Tony said, glancing at Ziva with the corner of his eyes and catching her soft smile. He felt like a straight-up teenager wondering if he had managed to impress her as well.

“Of course it did,” she said, and to his surprise, her tone for once didn’t portray any judgment.

They spent a moment in silence, watching a flock of birds fly above their heads to the other side of the lake. Thankfully, a cloud had given them a break from the burning sun and now a nice summer breeze cooled their skin.

It felt strangely natural to fall in silence with her—it was comforting in a way he was not used to—and Tony’s mind started roaring with all the questions he still needed to find answers to when Ziva spoke again.

“I spent a whole summer doing just that when I was a teen,” Ziva said softly and Tony found his heart skipping a beat at her honest smile.

“Me and Tali, we…” her voice turned quieter, and Tony studied her profile staring into the water, Ziva’s eyes unblinking as if in an attempt to share the memory the correct way. “We tried to beat each other’s records and always failed to realize when it was time to go back home. We became so good at fighting our way back through the dark forest, she was certain we had gained the ability of night vision by the end of that summer.”

Ziva let out a soft chuckle and Tony’s eyes softened at her confession. He wondered why she had come to see him near the lake, if she had realized there was an unspoken frustration coming from him, bubbling beneath the surface.

“The training paid off,” Tony said, and his heart pounded in his chest at the way she smiled at him.

Ziva crouched down and grabbed a flat stone, throwing it to glide over the water with a skillful twist of her wrist. The toss was even better than Tony's, but that didn’t surprise him in the least.

“We had a tradition to make a wish,” Ziva looked at him with a sly smile. “Every time you skip a stone, you were supposed to hope for something, Tali used to say.”

Tony couldn’t take his eyes off of her, not even when Ziva crouched down and made yet another flawless toss across the water. She was not easy to open up like that, and every little detail of her life amazed him so greatly, Tony for once decided it was best to keep his mouth shut.

“You take a great risk that a heavy stone will glide on the water when it seemed destined to sink,” Ziva continued. “For that moment of stillness you believe it is possible and with persistence, it finally skips. Something that seemed impossible starts to feel very doable.”

Ziva made yet another perfect toss and Tony fought back the urge to lean over and brush his lips with need against hers right then and there. The strands of her hair were glowing a shade of dark gold under that afternoon sun and his heart pounded inside his chest with the thought of feeling that curls in his palm, what it would feel like to fist them during a kiss.

“What did you wish for?” Tony found himself asking, and his voice came out a bit more breathless than he expected.

Ziva looked at him with a smart glint in her eyes and he knew instantly that had been the wrong thing to ask.

His desire for kissing her must have been completely noticeable in his face, because Ziva’s eyes flickered briefly to Tony’s dry lips before adding some moisture to her own.

“We are not supposed to kiss and tell,” she said.

Tony had no chance to either enquire about her wishes or to tease her about getting that idiom right, because Ziva squeezed his arm softly before turning to go back to the crime scene with a slight sway of her hips.

A few paces after, she looked over her shoulder to cast him a thousand-watt grin, and Tony found himself beaming too—Ziva had certainly figured out what he was thinking about, something that was turning even more usual lately.

Tony watched her reach McGee and start a conversation, to which they immediately engaged without a second glance at him.

Tony turned back to the lake, noticing that the clouds had parted again to give space to the still very hot sun. He clenched his jaw and picked up another flat pebble from the ground, turning it a few times on his palm to study its flat surface. He looked back to the lake again, realizing with a shake of his head that his heart didn’t feel quite as heavy as before.

And when Tony sent the stone to glide over the water with a flick of his wrist, his lips twitched into a bright smile, wondering if Ziva’s wishes were anything similar to his—that perhaps in the following summer, the heat wouldn't come just from the sun.


	2. cardigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony thought his Friday night would be just as uneventful as all others that summer, until an encounter with Liaison Officer Ziva David in a downtown bar turns things around.
> 
> set in early S3.
> 
> **NSFW.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _to kiss in cars and downtown bars  
>  was all we needed  
> you drew stars around my scars  
> but now i’m bleedin’_

The bar exploded with the sound of beer bottles hitting wood and dollar bills started to pass from hand to hand just as Tony’s lips twitched into his best cocky grin. He hadn’t envisioned becoming the main attraction of the night when he entered his usual bar a couple of hours before; but when the arm-wrestling competition had started and he saw that he had a pretty decent chance in it, Tony decided no summer night would go to waste without having at least a little bit of fun. 

It also attracted the attention of the ladies, and that was always a plus. A particular cute blonde had caught his eye on the other side of the bar, and now she giggled with her group of friends when he sent a skillful wink her way. 

The exchanging of glances was only interrupted when Tony turned over his shoulder to greet a man who had patted his back in appreciation for his tenth victory that Friday night. Tony noticed that the group of onlookers had already begun to disperse around him, and downed the remaining of his beer with a smug smirk when he realized it had been because of his generally useless ability of arm-wrestling. 

It was a humid summer evening, and grabbing an ice-cold beer had been his first intention of the night—but now, after a few bottles, his mind was already fuzzy enough to not particularly care that the July air quickly warmed the drink in his hand. 

Tony glanced at the blonde again, and she was still looking at him—a hunger so clear in her eyes that it was visible from the other side of the room. 

_Yes_ , he thought, _finally a night that looked promising_.

Tony tapped on the bar and motioned to the bartender for a refill, which he quickly received with a small nod coming from the younger man.

“Quite a show tonight,” the bartender said, signing with his chin to the crowd behind Tony. 

Tony lifted his new beer, saying, “thanks. Didn’t expect people would enjoy it much, though.”

“It’s hot tonight,” he replied with a smile. “A distraction is always good. And it keeps the business going.”

“Well, I think they got tired of it.” 

“It’s still early. And it’s summer, people are itchy for something to pass the time. I’m sure someone will try to beat you sooner than later.”

“Not merely try.”

Tony turned over his shoulder to see who had spoken and couldn’t help but let out a rough laugh once he recognized who it was. 

“You.” He took another sip of his beer, a side smirk already tugging on his lips. “I’m not playing with _you_.”

“Why not?” asked Ziva with a sly smile, not taking long to slouch down at the stool next to him. Tony quickly took in her naked arms resting on the counter and her clearly provocative posture. She wore a fitted black top and cargo pants that looked dangerously good with her hair down like that. 

“Because I am a _woman_?” Ziva added with a challenging glance.

“Far from that, Miss David.” Tony looked straight ahead to keep from staring at her, but now was acutely aware of Ziva’s presence at his side. “Like if I had a choice I'd hang around with more dudes, huh?”

“Why then? Afraid of losing?”

“Not at all. But I _would_ prefer not to listen to you whining about it when I win.”

“ _If_ you win.”

Tony couldn’t refrain from turning to Ziva, only to catch her already staring. She ogled him with no shame, the same tantalizing glint in her eyes he remembered from when she’d perused into the NCIS squad room a couple of weeks earlier. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Can’t a girl have a fun night out?” was her reply. Ziva signed for the bartender and a minute later he brought a glass filled with what looked like aged whiskey, which she downed all in one go. 

Tony wasn’t surprised. He knew that woman could drink, and hard liquor too. Ziva asked for a refill and he took the opportunity to gawk at how she angled her hips closer to the counter, a feather-light brush of her thigh against his suddenly burning through the fabric of his jeans. 

“Are you following me?” asked Tony.

His gaze had lingered on her and Ziva turned to him, tilting her head. “How conceited,” she stated, but there was a fire in her eyes that made him think otherwise.

“This bar is nowhere near where you live.”

“And how _exactly_ do you know where I live?”

Tony huffed. “A guy can’t be too sure about who carries a gun near his head.”

A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “Oh. So you feel intimidated?” Ziva asked, slowly. 

“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t check on us too,” Tony objected, brows lift. ”I’m pretty sure Mossad does _not_ see us as good samaritans.”

Ziva chuckled and Tony found himself watching the way her throat moved when she swallowed the remaining of her drink. He couldn’t deny that she _was_ a foreign beauty, but Ziva was so different from the women he usually dated, he constantly found himself questioning what _was_ it about her that made her so alluring—and distracted him so damn often.

She hadn’t gone there with lady friends (though that was perhaps because she was new in town, but he wasn’t so sure), nor flirted with him the way he was used to hearing from women; nor did she ask for the same silly cocktails he usually saw in the hands of the girls he dated. She always decided on lighter and more practical clothes (he didn’t want to know what was inside those pockets of her cargo pants), but something in the confident way she carried herself outshone the rest of the women in that bar. And confused him. _A lot_.

Ziva looked so relaxed next to him, surveying the room in silence, Tony wondered if she really _did_ go there only to have a different kind of night that didn’t involve any work. 

“Are you fishing?” he asked, eyes focused on her. 

Ziva’s brows knit together, and a flicker of confusion crossed her face. “Do I _look_ like I am fishing?”

Tony swallowed his beer, shaking his head a little at the way she narrowed her eyes at him. 

”And what about that arm-battling?” Ziva asked and stared at him intensely.

“Forget about it.”

“Just pretend I am a stranger. Would that be easier for you, Agent DiNozzo?” she provoked, sounding amused.

“Hah! No,” Tony replied with a huff. If she was a stranger to him, they would probably not even be at that bar, but in the back seat of his car or the hotel around the corner. 

Still thinking about what they would be doing if they were strangers, Tony glanced at the bartender to see the man smirking amusedly at him. 

“What?” Tony asked, sounding annoyed. The other man’s glance flickered to Ziva and she chuckled mischievously next to him. Tony glared at her and rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw. “ _Fine_ ,” he found himself saying.

Tony downed the remaining of his bottle and turned on his seat to face her, sticking out an arm at Ziva’s direction to rest his elbow against the counter. “Go ahead,” he deadpanned. 

The confidence he was in for another victory started to waver when Ziva’s lips twitched into a lewd smile, and a dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. She stood up and dragged her stool closer, right before sitting back again and locking her right hand with his. Both her knees were now hotly pressed against his, and Tony felt the air suddenly get stuffy when she licked her lips in anticipation. 

“I will do my best not to hurt you,” Ziva smirked.

“Do you worst,” he replied with an annoyed lip-tight smile. 

The bartender whistled loudly and people started to gather around them to watch, just before Tony felt Ziva push against his hand with strength, and he pushed it back right away. His eyes were locked with hers, but he saw people handling dollar bills and placing their bets on the counter with the corner of his vision. Soon they were surrounded by onlookers commenting on who would win, but their words soon lost their meaning when Tony registered how close Ziva’s face was to his. 

Tony tried to focus on the task in hand, but his gaze kept flickering at her so-kissable lips a breath away from his face, and he couldn’t look away— _especially_ when Ziva started to bite her lower lip in concentration. 

He had to admit she wasn’t half as bad as his other competitors, but Tony had been doing this for some hours now, and when her hand started to shake at the direction of the countertop, he couldn’t help but smile smugly her way.

“Already sweating?” Tony asked with his trademark smirk, and Ziva glared at him.

“This is too easy,” she retorted and, to his surprise, managed to get back to middle ground. In a second.

The battle escalated from there, and Tony clenched his jaw while he tried his best to put her down. Their hands traded dominance frequently, and Ziva proved to be uncharacteristically strong for her small figure when his biceps started to burn. 

Feeling queasy, Tony decided to change tactics, saying, “there’s still time to use those pretty hands of yours for a better purpose, sweetheart.”

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say, because Ziva’s eyes turned feral in an instant. 

“Careful,” she smirked dangerously. “Or they will soon end around your throat.”

Tony’s lips twitched upwards but his smile quickly disappeared when he noticed Ziva was starting to gain advantage. His hand came dangerously close to the countertop before he managed to push her back, and Ziva chuckled lowly at the whimper he let out during the process.

“Agent DiNozzo,” she smiled sweetly. “You just have to chew the bullet and let the best of us win this game.”

“Bite.”

“Why would I bite you.”

Tony was ready to give her a snarky reply when his gaze flickered to the person that had materialized next to them—it was the cute blonde he had been flirting with and who he had apparently forgotten since Ziva arrived.

She looked even more gorgeous up close—tight summer dress and bright blue eyes—and his mouth suddenly went dry as she seized him up and bit her lower lip seductively. Tony swallowed at the way she played with her hair around her finger (like one of his fantasies come to life) and immediately cast her his million-dollar smile, right before she stepped closer and placed a hand atop his shoulder.

Ziva’s unimpressed chuckle took him out of his reverie and Tony snapped back to scowl at the way she rolled her eyes. Ziva looked between him and the woman standing on his side and suddenly increased the strength of her grip, making his hand tremble the other way. 

With her hand so slippery on his, Tony’s eyes widened at the possibility of making a fool of himself in front of everyone—and Ziva’s fierce stare gave him no indication that she would back away now.

He clenched his jaw and focused on her again, huffing out a breath as he tried to push her back, but failed. Ziva’s smile vanished and a little frown appeared as her gaze shifted to the blonde now caressing his back, and Tony was sure he saw a flicker of disappointment in them before she settled her eyes back on his.

Then all at once, Ziva’s grip turned slack so fast, Tony’s hand made her knuckles hit the table _hard_ , the sound a loud snap. He frowned at her, but Ziva’s expression was blank, only a lip-tight smile on the side of her mouth.

“It appears I still need some practice,” she said slowly, retrieving her hand. Ziva looked at the girl standing next to him and huffed, “enjoy the night.”

Feeling more confused than ever, Tony watched as she paid for her drinks and stole away his new beer, walking through the crowd and disappearing from view. The woman next to him said something in the lines of ‘big boy’ and ‘free tonight’, but he couldn’t quite catch, still stretching his neck to see where Ziva had gone.

He found her in a far corner of the bar, leaning against the wall with his bottle on her lips. Ziva was looking directly at him, which startled him for a fraction of a second before the familiar tingle reappeared again at the pit of his stomach. There was something strangely intriguing about her, about the way she always shut him down but still beckoned him closer; perhaps since the very first day they had met in that Navy Yard.

Tony was already halfway across the bar when he started to question how tipsy he really was, just as the complaints of a stranger ringed in his ears when he tripped the man over, a blurry chair now on the ground he hadn’t even noticed in the first place. Mumbling his apologies, Tony searched for her again, those alluring dark eyes quickly pulling his attention back to the corner where she stood, still watching him. 

He stopped a few inches away from her face, invading her personal space the way she usually did with his. Ziva huffed softly, her lips twitching as she swallowed another gulp of his beer and her tongue darting out to wet them, slowly. She must have noticed the way his eyes followed every move, because a lewd smile quickly appeared on her mouth.

“Why are you here?” Tony queried again.

Ziva laughed lowly, then narrowed her eyes. “You keep asking that.” She finished his beer and put it on the floor, her naked arm slightly brushing his in the process. 

Making no attempt of reducing the proximity between them, Ziva looked at something beyond him. “She’s pretty,” she added nonchalantly. “I'd say go for it.”

Her eyes lifted to Tony’s with a challenge so clear in them, he barked out a low laugh once he noticed that was her way of asking _him_ why he was there—talking to _her_ instead of trying to coax the pretty blonde into his bed.

Fighting the urge to just kiss that smug smile out of Ziva’s mouth, Tony drew back to rest his body against the wall next to her, finding that not looking at her was easier in the temptation department. 

“Are you fishing?” he asked again, surveying the still crowded bar.

Ziva huffed next to him. “Do you listen to yourself when you talk?”

Tony glanced down at her and clicked his tongue, clarifying, “are you looking for a hot date?”

She took a moment to answer. “Perhaps,” was her reply. “It is just sex, yes?”

 _Was it?_ he thought, _was she so casual about it as she seemed to let on?_

“Someone caught your eye?”

Tony felt rather than saw Ziva shrug beside him, when her exposed arm stroked him as she did so. 

“Not particularly,” she replied casually. Too casually for him to discern anything. Or perhaps his mind was too fuzzy to catch the meaning behind her words. 

“You have a type?” Tony asked, blinking away the blurriness from the alcohol. 

Ziva huffed. “I am sure _you_ believe in that concept, but most women think that someone who is thorough is enough.”

Trying to picture what she meant, Tony inquired, “define that.”

He heard her low hum before replying.

“Does his job well,” Ziva said slowly.

Tony chuckled, crossing his arms. “So your type is a guy who is willing to go down on you?”

To put it so blatantly would have bothered someone else, but Ziva didn’t bat an eye. 

“Most of them get intimidated,” she replied. “Or are assholes.”

The matter-of-factly tone in her voice made Tony question how many of the guys she had slept with _had_ been assholes. 

“I would go down on a woman for hours if she let me,” he found himself saying.

His boasting wasn’t received with the praise he was expecting, and Ziva let out an unimpressed huff.

“ _After_ you are done, surely?”

Resisting the urge to just drag her out of there and prove what he'd meant, Tony stepped away from the wall to turn to her. He placed his right arm against the wall, just above her head, watching Ziva’s eyes turn a tone darker—if that was even possible—as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before speaking. 

“If there’s a woman in my bed, she’s going to get the five stars room service.” Tony gave her his best cocky grin. 

Ziva huffed and met his gaze, then let her eyes travel down his face in an almost intrusive way that made his pulse speed up. 

“ _Of course_ ,” she replied, brow lift. 

Tony smirked down at her. “No complaints until now.” 

She huffed at his comment and Tony felt her hot breath caress his cheek with the proximity. _God_ , her face was so close to his, he felt warm from head to toe. His heartbeat was so loud on his ears, Tony wondered how much of that was a consequence of the alcohol. 

“Also, a guy that doesn’t mind my screams.”

He could feel his head swimming with the possibility of hearing those famous screams up close, and wondered if his name would’ve been one of them. Ziva must have guessed what he was thinking, because her tempting lips parted slightly and his gaze was instantly pulled to them.

“I thought they would be asking for it,” Tony said, his voice coming out hoarser than expected.

 _T_ _hey were fools if they weren’t_ , he thought, but didn’t give Ziva the pleasure of knowing that. 

“I am not someone to be tamed,” she purred, a side smirk tugging on her lips.

He chuckled. “I can see that.”

Tony swallowed and lifted his eyes to hers. Ziva was staring at his mouth with an intensity he thought he must have been aiming at her. His pulse sped up, the urge to lean over and claim those dangerous lips almost too strong to resist. 

They shouldn’t be there. In that position, at that hour, at that place. They had rules about that, and she was certainly not someone to be trusted like that. He’d known her for what… a few weeks? Sometimes it felt like he knew her all his life, sometimes it felt like it was just twenty minutes. And there would be consequences—they just recently became co-workers, and his boss would’ve _definitely_ had a few things to say if he’d caught them acting like that…

But Tony suddenly couldn’t think of a single damn reason why they should not.

It was summer and it was late, and her eyes were dark with lust. 

“Some complain about the neighbors,” she sounded a bit breathless.

“Who gives a fuck about neighbors?”

He met her mouth in mad hunger and shoved his tongue between her lips, until she softly whimpered for him, the taste of cold beer still lingering on her mouth. Her skin was hot under his touch, and Tony pinned her body against the wall firmly, until his head started to spin with the sensation of their hips pressed together like that. 

He would’ve been embarrassed by the telltale bulge forming beneath the fabric of his jeans, if not for Ziva’s answering moan just as he fisted her curls with a demanding tug—one which she instantly mimicked with his short hair. She nibbled his lower lip and Tony found himself whimpering too, his low groan muffled by her hungry, demanding mouth over his.

She felt intoxicating, her taste like the forbidden fruit he wasn’t supposed to crave, but as she gasped into his mouth when he pressed his thigh between her legs, Tony felt all the remaining logic left his brain immediately. He attached his mouth to the hollow of her throat and heard her shudder of pleasure as he licked the salty taste up her neck to the sensitive spot just behind her ear, finding a pulse to suck until she moaned lowly again.

Ziva’s hands tightened in his hair and Tony claimed her mouth again just as a curse left her lips in a muffled cry. With her warm hands tugging underneath his shirt and nails digging into his back, Tony almost couldn’t think straight, but the want of getting a chance to hear those famous screams overpowered his thoughts.

A downtown bar wasn’t the place for it.

Tony smiled when she let out a low protest after he broke the kiss, her dark eyes still swimming with a lust that made his mouth turn dry. He brushed the loose curls off her face with a soft caress of his thumb over her cheek, his eyes fixed on her now red, swollen lips.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tony said, his voice sounding like gravel. 

Ziva’s eyes widened slightly before she quickly cast him a dangerous smile.

Slightly afraid she would change her mind, Tony grabbed her hand and tugged Ziva towards the exit, her fingers slippery between his. Before leaving the bar, he looked over his shoulder just in time to catch the bartender with a thumb raised in the air, and Tony couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

The air outside was humid and sticky, but the July heat was pleasant for a change with Ziva’s hand intertwined with his like that. Tony’s apartment was just a few blocks away, and he quickly thanked his past self for choosing that bar in the first place—or else they would’ve probably just ended up fucking in the men’s restroom, or somewhere as equally dirty. 

“Follow me,” he said, tugging her to a sudden turn to the left.

Ziva’s sweet laugh made him look back at her, and Tony caught her smiling broadly, a brow lift. 

“Now you’re asking?” she mused.

Tony couldn’t help but grin as well.

“Shut up.”

* * *

They almost couldn’t get past the door when the hunger kicked in again, mouths crashing together as touches turned more frantic and sloppier than before. One of Tony’s hands tightened in Ziva’s hair just as she bit his lower lip, and he let out a low groan when she pressed their hips together again against his living room wall. 

Ziva’s fingernails dug into his back under his shirt, and Tony quickly disposed of it before lifting her tank top over her head. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, breathing hard at the sight of her naked breasts now exposed, and briefly wondered how many times she had gone braless without him noticing. He would _definitely_ pay more attention to it now. And perhaps even less to anything else.

Her nipples were already hard, and Tony leaned forward and licked one of them, drawing it into his mouth until a loud moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She quickly disposed of her cargo pants and one of his hands slid under her thigh to angle her leg up, making Ziva let out a muffled gasp when his leg hooked up between her thighs, the friction of their hips burning through the fabric of his jeans. 

Her tongue was rough and demanding as it shoved again into his mouth, and Tony felt even drunker than before as she tugged his short hair in response to his thigh’s rhythmic pressure between her legs. She moaned and her head felt back, and he licked the salty taste of her flavor from her clavicle to her neck, sucking the quickening pulse just below her ear until she started thrashing under his grip. 

With a quick motion of his hand, Tony hooked her other leg around his hip, and now the bulge beneath his pants was nearly painful as Ziva threw all her weight onto him, rubbing their pelvis together. She gasped into his mouth when he grabbed her ass, and her fingernails dug hard into his back when he slapped it, the sound echoing across the living room.

Tony stumbled towards the couch and heard the noise of something breaking, but couldn’t care less as he backed them out to the cushions, Ziva trying to undo his pants. 

“Take this off,” she protested against his lips, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at her impatience.

He kissed her again, driving the heel of his palm along her side, until his hand found how wet she was over her lace panties. Ziva’s breath hitched in her throat and she clung to him tightly while his thumb stroked her clit in slow circles over the fabric. 

She started to mumble incoherent sounds of surrender and Tony couldn’t refrain the cocky smile that twitched in his lips, watching her breathing hard with eyes closed. Then he stroked her harder and Ziva’s eyes shot open, her hand painfully tugging his short hair as she gasped. 

As soon as she saw his trademark grin, she claimed his mouth again, kissing and sucking his tongue with a hunger that made his head spin, and his rhythm lost its finesse. Tony growled at how she rocked her hips against his hand, a wanting throb spreading through his own pelvis as she moaned again into his mouth. 

Her eyes widened in protest and a little frown appeared when he broke the kiss to attach his mouth to her clavicle, an arm steadying her around the waist as Tony started a pattern of kiss, lick and suck down her chest that made her gasp out loud again. Then his mouth moved lower, nibbling from the curve of her breast to her hip bone, until a hard tug on his hair made him look up to meet her gaze.

Ziva’s forehead was creased, her eyes were dark and her mouth was slack, a question dancing in her gaze. 

“Miss David.” Tony chuckled softly, then nibbled just below her belly button, making her shudder. “I’m a man of my word.” He met her electric gaze again. “Let me do my job.”

Ziva huffed softly, then her lips cracked in a smile that was a real brain killer.

“Five stars service, you said?”

“Make that ten.”

Ziva's amused chuckle turned into a gasp when Tony dropped to his knees against the couch, his hands coming up to her ass to pull her close enough so he could lean over and lick the inside of her thigh. The skin was so soft there, his head swam with the sensation of her strong scent hitting him so close, and Tony decided right when she shuddered that he would probably do this for a whole day if she let him.

He pressed the softest kiss over the fabric of her panties, and cursed when he noticed how wet she already was underneath it. Her fingernails dug impatiently into his shoulders when he buried his face into her crotch and smelled her, his rough tongue briefly licking the sensitive spot over the lace.

Tony hooked a finger around her underwear and quickly pulled it to her ankles, throwing it to the floor before leaning back again to hug her waist. One of his hands circled her ankle and he nibbled the inside of it, making her gasp when he put her foot over his shoulder. He did the same with her other leg and continued the pattern of licks and kisses up her inner thigh, watching as Ziva moaned and let her head fall back as he did so.

His lips stopped to hover just above her clit, and he blew a hot breath there as he watched her biting her lower lip, and her hand fisted his hair even harder. Ziva’s heavy eyes opened with a lust haze and flushed cheeks, but Tony waited until she did what he was hoping for all night so he could continue.

“Tony,” she panted his name and tilted her hips just a fraction, back arching in shameless request. She licked her lips and he couldn’t resist her then, and so he leaned down to suck on her clit as she moaned his name in a scream at last.

Taste exploded across his tongue and he felt her doubling over, but he just gripped her hips harder and slid his tongue between her legs until his name was a repetitive prayer escaping from her mouth loud enough for all neighbors to hear. 

She gasped and he raised his head, watching in fascination as she gripped tight on his hair and panted with eyes closed, and it was just so easy to continue sucking her then, until her body tensed up with the delicious sensation of need for relief.

She let out a strangled cry as soft tremors began to run through her, and he felt the muscles in her thighs twitch against his cheek, felt her fingernails mark the skin of his arms that held her close. 

He swirled his tongue just one more time over her core before Ziva let out a scream to the ceiling as burning, sweet release made her body pulsate under his grip. He continued to suck her clit as she rode the orgasmic wave, thighs shuddering with ecstasy and tightening against his cheeks, while his name escaped her mouth repeatedly like a plea.

She laughed weakly when he pressed a gentle kiss just at her pubic bone, and Tony grinned his best cocky grin while she tried to slow down her breathing. 

Then her eyes met his, and turned feral in a second.

“You. Naked. Now.” She tugged him by the hair and Tony growled into her mouth at the sweet pain of her grip, hard-ond on now downright painful beneath the thick layer of denim.

Ziva kissed him with need, shoving her tongue into his mouth as he let her taste her own flavor. Still moaning his name, she fumbled with his belt buckle, but couldn’t remove it with his weight pressed down over her like that.

“ _Now_ ,” she demanded once again in a hoarse voice, sucking his lower lip.

Tony laughed softly at the energy that woman had, fighting back his own need of release as he palmed her wetness once again. She gasped into his mouth, and he almost let her turn him around—to probably ride him until they both screamed—with a swift flick of his thumb over her clit that made her back arch towards him again.

“I just need you to come one more time,” he said into her ear, nibbling it with a swirl of his tongue.

Ziva was still trembling under him while he stroked her.

“Tony, I-” she managed to let out in a gasp.

He sucked her pulse again, feeling it quicken underneath his mouth.

“Please?” he asked lowly, then slipped two fingers into her, making her tense as if she’d just been shocked.

His name falling through her gritted teeth was the only confirmation of the next orgasm starting to build.

* * *

With their legs still intertwined between bedsheets, Tony kept running his fingers over her exposed back, now a bit sticky with the sweat still cooling down. He traced a scar just atop her shoulder blade, drawing undefined shapes around it as he wondered if she would ever tell him the story behind it. _If_ there was a story behind it worth telling. 

Ziva rested on his chest, her breathing relaxed and eyes closed, her body a pleasant warmth over him even with the hot July air. Tony closed his eyes, turning slightly so he could press his nose into the mass of her hair. Her hand moved to lay just where his heart was placed, and he chuckled softly against her curls.

“You let me win.” A smile twitched in his lips.

He felt the protesting huff she let out shuddering from her body to his. 

“I would never let you win,” she argued, but there was a smile in her voice.

“So you’re saying you lost.”

“I did not say that.”

Tony puffed amused and pulled her hand from his chest to his lips, kissing the calloused knuckles that had earlier hit the bar countertop. 

“Stay,” he found himself saying, and was surprised to hear how honest his voice sounded. He usually didn’t invite his dates to stay overnight, but then again, Ziva wasn’t his usual. 

“I have a really nice couch,” Tony added with a chuckle and kissed her hand again. 

“You do.” She sounded amused.

Probably remembering what they had done on that couch.

Ziva raised her head to meet his gaze, and those dark eyes bore into him with such intensity he couldn’t look away. She leaned down to press the softest kiss to his lips, and his hand immediately shot to her hair to hold her still. But the kiss was brief and soon Ziva drew back, casting him a relaxed smile that probably mimicked his own.

She sat up on the bed and started pulling her clothes back on, while Tony watched the scars he was just tracing with his fingers slightly move as she did so. Biting back the urge to just hold her and force her to remain there, he also sat up, putting his jeans on to walk her out.

Thinking furiously of a way to convince her to stay (and not at all about the consequences of that night), Tony opened the front door with a hesitant smile. He watched her gaze settle on him again, and saw the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked at him. 

“Thank you,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to place a feather-light kiss on his left cheek while her hand palmed his other one.

Tony chuckled, mentally noting how burning that touch had felt on his skin. 

“For the sex?” he mused.

Her smart eyes sparkled. “For the offer.”

“Oh.”

His heart skipped a beat at the way her hand lingered on his chest for a second, and he wondered if she had picked up the quickening of his pulse before she walked out the door.

Ziva looked over her shoulder and a rare summer breeze tousled her hair. 

“Goodnight, Agent DiNozzo.”

She smiled, making his heart flutter. “ _Tony_ ,” she amended with a lift of her brow.

“Goodnight,” he replied with his million-dollar grin. 

And as he watched her walk away, Tony felt slightly lightheaded when he realized that the arm-wrestling hadn't been his biggest victory that night.


	3. the last great american dynasty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva takes an oath to become an American citizen. Tony, however, doesn’t miss it this time. 
> 
> fix-it for the end of 7x24 (yes, I’m still bitter).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _and they said  
>  "there goes the last great American dynasty  
> who knows, if she never showed up  
> what could've been?"_

Ziva rolled the loose strand of the hem of her jacket between her fingers, making a knot and then quickly taking it apart. 

She glanced over her shoulder for what felt like the tenth time in the last half an hour, finding that the mammoth door of the courtroom remained closed. Every single time someone opened it and walked in, her heart did that little weird flip inside her chest that sent it racing only to sink a second later - his face wasn't one she'd seen yet. 

The couple of chairs next to Ziva were still empty, but by the hour from her wristwatch, she would just have to swallow the fact that they chose not to show. It wasn't surprising, she thought, that they stumbled upon more important tasks. They were both busy people with ranks that outdid hers and with personal responsibilities she had no control of. It wasn't surprising that neither Tony nor Gibbs were present at her ceremony. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal for them anyway. 

Ziva tried not to feel anything. That flicker of disappointment that made her stomach drop. She buried it down and filled her mind by repeating the oath again. Under her breath, she recited the words she already knew by heart, staring at the wall straight ahead. She focused on her breathing and on how this was important for _her,_ not someone else. It was _her_ life that was about to change, and she would not let it go to waste. 

This was finally her chance of shutting a door she didn't want anymore, a past that was better forgotten. A chance to restart everything, mend the scars on her skin that still hurt, and stop feeling that pungent smell from a dark room that haunted her dreams. 

Ziva wouldn't let their absences take that away, even if now she knew they didn't see her as the family she saw them as. 

The touch of Abby's hand on Ziva's arm startled her, ending her reverie. Sending her an apologetic look, Abby showed her the phone screen again, which shone with the signal of 'unanswered' right under Tony's name. Ziva's heart felt weird, galloping in a way that was unfair by how much it hurt. Ignoring it, Ziva cast Abby the best smile she could muster. 

He wasn't coming. 

An official motioned for everyone to stand up, and Ziva followed suit. She straightened her posture and raised her chin, inhaling deeply. Strength had been her company for all those years. It would not abandon her now. 

"Did I miss it?"

Tony's voice sent a shiver down her spine that made Ziva instantly warm. She didn't know it was possible for her heart to beat even faster, but she was certain it would fall right onto the ground when Tony materialized right next to her, fixing his tie. She forced her mouth to close, and wondering if the heat she felt on her cheeks was visible, turned her face away from him. 

"No. It's starting now," replied Ziva, a bit breathless. 

"Good." Tony smiled, and she was certain the flustering was clear now, creeping up her neck. 

"It will be boring."

"No, it won't. Well, maybe a little. But I wouldn't miss it."

She had no idea how much she needed to hear those words, but it felt like Tony did. He cast her a small smile from the corner of his mouth, and Ziva sighed despite herself. Sometimes it felt like he knew her better than she ever did, sending her a glance from across the room that could save a whole conversation. He was able to turn things good again. What buttons to push to make her see clearly. 

"Sorry for taking so long," Tony lowered his voice when the ceremony started. "Vance put me in a secret assignment last minute."

"Secret assignment?" Ziva glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. 

Tony chuckled, sending her a look. "No, not _that_ again. One time was enough trauma, thank you very much."

He meant Jeanne. He was talking about the secret assignment Director Sheppard had put him in years ago, even if it wasn't what Ziva was asking about. When he was undercover, when he made someone fall in love with him - and he did too, in the process - but that had been so long ago, Ziva had almost forgotten it. She couldn't refrain her smile when he said that, though, looking away but secretly satisfied by that answer. 

"What was it, then?" asked Ziva.

"I'll tell you when we get back," replied Tony, as if he was already planning they would leave there together. Ziva's heart did that little flip again. "Gibbs isn't answering my calls," he continued, sounding a bit sad. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it must be really important if he wasn't able to come."

Ziva watched him for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I know that."

And despite the racing of her pulse, she took Tony's hand that hung between them to squeeze it gently, saying, "Thank you."

Tony turned to her, his eyes seeing more than she wanted him to. But not long later, he nodded too, dismissing it. 

"Now pay attention, lady," his brows shot up. "I don't wanna be blamed later for making you miss it."

Ziva returned the smile, now feeling a peace she didn't know she had. 

The ceremony carried on, and with it, Ziva's worry easily dissipated. In no time, she was raising her hand up to recite the words she had feared for years, perhaps all her life. The ones which would renounce her past and country, start a new life.

It felt exhilarating. 

"Would you look at that," whispered Tony in her ear, nudging her on the shoulder. "There goes, your last non-American day, David." He cracked his typical grin. "Who knows, if you never showed up, what could've been?"

A smile started to twitch on Ziva's mouth, and that was all that she could reply before proclaiming the oath - a bright, honest smile; excitement clear in her pounding heartbeat. 

_"I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen..."_

There were so many people saying the exact same thing she felt like she was part of a choir, a speech rehearsed for days in her own head that finally came to life. 

"Woo-hoo!" exclaimed Tony, and Ziva blinked to realize it had come to an end. "There you have it." He hugged her shoulders and pressed a quick kiss to her head before she could even process it, saying, "Ziva David. Israeli jewel no more."

But something about the way he said that made her think that wasn't true. 

Glancing at him, Ziva huffed out a surprised chuckle. Tony was casting her the brightest smile ever, his eyes sparkling as if he just witnessed a miracle, not an oath. 

She couldn't refrain from smiling as well. 

"This calls for a celebration." Tony patted McGee on the back and pulled him as well towards the exit. "C'mon, probies. On me."

"On _you_?" McGee chuckled in disbelief. "Drinks on _this_ Tony DiNozzo?"

"It's not very wise to mock me beforehand, Tim."

"Champagne?" asked Ziva, hooking her arm inside Tony's. 

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "And who are you, Gatsby? Fill your pool with it or something?" 

Ziva shrugged. "He has fantastic parties."

"Correction, he 'had'. _Americans_ have fantastic parties." Tony smirked as he said the word, including her. "Ask my friend Leo, he knows it."

Ziva let out a chuckle, swaying closer to him as they walked down the sidewalk. The sun was still up in the sky, but it felt like the day could've ended right that instant and it would already be worth it. Ziva couldn't remember the last time she felt such peace.

"Enlighten me then," she said. 

"Miss David." A smirk started to twitch on his mouth. "It would be my honor."

She didn't know where they were heading, and they certainly already had tasks to attend to that time of day, but for once, Ziva didn't care. Ziva didn't care for deadlines, or responsibilities, or restraints. She was fine with being just a girl, celebrating life with her friends the way she wanted to. The future was still hers for the making. 

"C'mon." Tony suddenly took a sharp turn to the right, entering a restaurant she wasn't familiar with. "Let's have a marvelous time."

Ziva chuckled right back. "Now _you_ sound like Gatsby."

Tony made a mocking pout, raising his chin and impersonating, "My life, old sport, my life... my life has got to be like this."

Ziva rolled her eyes, but they both knew she was faking it. The smile was permanent on her face, and when Gibbs joined them for a drink later that afternoon, it stretched until it hurt her cheeks. 

And then she understood just how wrong she was - maybe she didn't have to really choose a place, but could keep them both inside her heart. Maybe she could cherish her roots and still be who she is - a woman searching for purpose, for happiness in the little things, and for a new life ahead.

Maybe she didn't even need to ruin anything.

She just needed to _be_.

Smiling so wide it felt like her heart was smiling too, Ziva finally understood - maybe they were even more than family. 

They were now a part of her. 


End file.
